


You Could've Done Better

by Mister_Cults_and_Bootlegs



Category: Smile For Me (Video Game)
Genre: Blood, Bootleg AU, Death, Dirt Child basically kills the professor, Gen, RIP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 18:47:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20569127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mister_Cults_and_Bootlegs/pseuds/Mister_Cults_and_Bootlegs
Summary: The Dirt Child's tired of being stuck at the habitat, and the Professor was just another obstacle in their way.





	You Could've Done Better

**Author's Note:**

> Ayyyyy, first fic I've ever written and it's of an AU I made, the Bootleg AU!! If anyone maybe wants to ask more about it you could ask me on my tumblr @raccoons-scribbly-arts! Sorry my first like, real storied out part of the AU was Bootleg FK going ape on Bootleg Habit.
> 
> (I'm also the one who made the Cult AU post on tumblr so,,, you might see more fics either about this AU or that one! ;-D!)

They were pissed. That was the best way to describe the feeling anyway. Waking up only to find out they were strapped down to some old dentist chair that was probably thrown out long ago by actual professionals was definitely not how they expected to awaken. Not only that, but the sight of a large man in dentistry wear wasn’t a pleasant sight either. No matter how nice someone is, when someone wakes up and someone’s leaning over them and they don’t know who they are, they’re going to start screaming. And that’s exactly how that scenario played out, them screaming the best they could with their lack of a mouth as the Professor stood there in shock before reeling back in terror. His words didn’t provide any comfort either, though if it was from the broken english spoken in a russian accent or his large imposing silhouette that negated the comforting meaning of his words was hard to tell.

Listening to his frantically paced speech didn’t help them calm down either, it only stroked the beginning of rage in their dirt covered heart. Maral had said he was going too far, but they weren’t warned that the Professor would just strap them into a dental chair and go on about some crazed plan where he’d fix everyone’s smiles! They never signed up for this! They just wanted to be able to forget the despair and disappointment waiting for them back home just for a little. Even if it meant being asleep or something else for their entire stay they didn’t even care. Better than dealing with their parents giving them those kinds of looks and words. But instead they were tasked with helping everyone else! Course they didn’t exactly say no since they couldn’t even do much of anything as everyone was too sad to actually keep their jobs up and running.

Once the professor got the guts to actually leave the room unattended to get something, they took that as their chance to get out of there. After a little while of yanking their wrists against the restraints, they ripped through one and ripped the other one in half. They likely only got through them thanks to the chair being as old and tattered as it is… and their seething anger. Approaching the door provided the knowledge that it lacked a door knob entirely. Which, for a makeshift dentist office, was weird. There wasn’t a keypad on the wall either, just some wheel somewhat above their range of reach that would look better attached to a pipe that a wall. They huffed in anger, yet another aggravating way to progress further in this damned place. But standing there wasn’t going to get them out of this chemical laced room, so they begrudgingly found a way up and began turning it.

Finally, finally, they were out of that room, the smell and rage was starting to make them woozy. A quick glance to the left provided the sight of the professor, almost framed by the handmade posters left up on the wall and orange tinted glass behind him. The room was covered in sloppily drawn murals, ranging from questioning an unknown thing to smiling wildly at nothing. But that wasn’t their focus. They stomped towards the man, barely taking the time to process the scrambled words he was saying. They only stopped their march briefly to roll up their right sleeve, clutching the fist as tightly as they could. The man in front of them paused, looking at them in slight disbelief and confusion as they looked him in the eye.

“Dihrt chield…? Whaht ahr y-”

They flung a punch at him, making him back pedal just a bit. The expression on his face only growing in intensity as they threw a few more at him, only causing him to back up against the glass door leading to the balcony behind him.

“Wh- Yyy… you caahn stop!”

The fear in his voice was becoming more and more prominent, but they had no plans dedicated to stopping their assault. One of the punches they landed struck his face, earning them the sound of a sick crunch and the warm sensation of blood on their clenched fist. Whether is was from the professors now bleeding or the skin on their knuckles finally breaking, they couldn’t tell and didn’t care to know. They just wanted him to hurt and they almost couldn’t remember why. The professor was too scared to even fight back, even as the glass protecting him from the outside was shattered by his large form pressing against it strongly.

The sound of the shattering glass momentarily made them stop, blinking and looking at the now untinted sky behind the man as he glanced behind himself in fear. He opened his mouth to say something, to try and convince them to cease this before it got out of hand, but he was quickly stopped as they landed the strongest punch they could give to his stomach. He was knocked back to the middle of the balcony, the glass flooring of it slightly crackling under his weight as he gasped for breath. They started to approach, to land another punch against his gut until he was pushed off the railing, but before they could the glass let out one last crackling sound before shattering from under the man.

He looked at them, wide eyed, as he began to plummet down towards the machine under his tower. He reached out for help, but they didn’t respond, narrowing their eyes as they watched him descend. They glanced away, avoiding the actual sight of him being killed by a machine of his own creation, and fully turned away when they heard the machine screech and stop from the obvious new obstruction in is gears and parts. Clutching their bloody fist, the ache of repeatedly whallopping something starting to settle in, they made their way to the exit. The door was wide open, ready to let them leave, but he wasn’t.

Maral stood near the elevator, looking at them with an increasingly frantic expression as he assessed the damage that had been done. His eyes especially lingered on their bloodied fist, his mouth slightly opening and closing as he glanced to their face and back to their fist repeatedly. He was clearly struggling on what to say. He knew what had happened, the blood and the sound of shattering glass was evidence enough. Finally he looked at their face, sadness, anger and… fear obvious on his own.

“Wh… You… You were… You were supposed to talk to him! Why did you… He… Why?”

They didn’t want to listen to him, they had blood on their hands now and just wanted to leave. Pushing past the man, they entered the elevator, turning to face him as they pushed the button that would finally let them desert this place. Maral stood where he was, looking at them as the doors began to close, disgust now evident in his tone and voice.

“...I hope your happy. You could’ve helped him.”


End file.
